Chapter 19
HAILEY
She was already skating behind the Rink Runners, directly into the blast zone, her dark ponytail swinging with the momentum of her strides.
I noticed her a second too late, my warning dying in my throat as the glitter bomb deployed, exploding onto the ice like confetti, a shimmering cloud catching the light in a thousand different places.
The spray shocked the guys, drawing startled shouts and curses, but it was Dani who got it worst— right in the face .
She recoiled, her hands flying up to protect her eyes, the sudden movement causing her to lose her edge.
Her skates suddenly slipped out from beneath her, and she crashed down hard, hitting the ice with a thud that resonated in my own bones.
The force of her fall sent her sliding dangerously fast toward the boards, a dark streak against the bright white ice.
“ Dani! ” I screamed, terror gripping me like a vice, squeezing until I couldn't breathe. I vaulted over the bench, ready to sprint across the ice in my sneakers, desperation making me stupid. Reckless .
But before I could move, a blur of motion caught my eye.
Lively was already moving, his reaction almost instantaneous, skating across the ice despite the dangerous glitter coating the surface.
His powerful strides ate up the distance between him and Dani's sliding form, his body low, arms pumping, every muscle coiled with razor sharp determination.
He reached her just before she hit the boards, catching her body and spinning to take the impact himself.
They slammed into the wall with a sickening thud that echoed through the rink, Lively's back crashing against the boards while he cradled Dani against his chest, his arms curled protectively around her lithe form.
The entire rink fell silent, the kind of absolute stillness that felt like being underwater, pressure building in my ears, my heartbeat suddenly too loud.
In that moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl, every detail etched with painful clarity—the glitter slowly settling on the ice, catching the light like fallen stars; the rigid line of Lively's jaw as he fought through pain; the way his body had curved around Dani's, instinctively shielding her.
With terror propelling me, I tried to skate onto the ice, my skates slipping dangerously, but our coaches' voices halted me instantly, twin shouts that cut through the silence.
"DON'T MOVE!"
I turned in slow motion, the world around me suddenly moving at half-speed, to see both Coach Hawkins and Coach Gunner running toward us, their faces thunder clouds of fury.
Coach Hawkins reached the boards first, her small, wiry frame surprisingly fast, leaning over to assess Dani, who was clutching at her eyes, her face contorted in pain.
"The glitter—" she was saying, voice tight with distress, "it's in my eyes, it stings—"
"Someone get the med kit!" Coach Gunner shouted, his voice booming across the space, while kneeling next to Lively, who was still on the ice, grimacing in pain, one hand pressed against his lower back. "Summers, you alright?"
"I'm fine," he grunted, though the tightness around his eyes told a different story, lines of tension radiating from the corners, his jaw clenched. "Just check on Ferguson."
My stomach dropped to my feet, a free-fall of emotion that left me dizzy, guilt crashing over me in waves so powerful I felt physically ill. This was my fault. My stupid, childish prank had hurt my teammate and... and Lively, the very person I’d been targeting in the first place, had saved her.
When Coach Hawkins snapped her head to spear me with a glare, I knew.
That I was screwed.
“What the hell were you thinking?!”
Coach Hawkins' voice echoed through the conference room where both teams sat, the acoustics amplifying her fury. Both the Blizzard Belles and the Rink Runners were seated in the stands, heads down like scolded children, the atmosphere thick with tension and shame.
I couldn't bring myself to look up, my eyes fixed on my hands, which couldn't seem to stay still in my lap.
The shame sat heavy in my stomach, coiled like a viper ready to strike, poisoning me from the inside out.
This was my fault. Dani could have been seriously hurt—she could have lost her sight if that glitter had scratched her corneas.
The medic had checked her out and said she'd be fine with rest, but it was a close call, too close .
And Lively... I risked a glance at him, the movement so subtle I hoped no one noticed.
He sat with his team, shoulders squared despite what must have been significant pain, a dark bruise already forming on his jawline where he must have hit the boards.
His posture was deliberately casual, one arm draped over the seat beside him, but I could see the tension in his frame, the slight stiffness in how he held himself.
Seeing that mark on his skin made something twist painfully in my chest, a sharp, unexpected pang that I honestly didn't even know how to quantify. I should’ve been happy about pulling one over on him, but I wasn’t a monster; I couldn’t just bring myself to gloat about any of it.
Already, the bruise was darkening, a visual reminder of what my petty revenge had cost.
I hadn’t intended for things to spiral like this, and these results were on me. I should’ve figured it out. I should’ve realized that glitter on ice was dangerous, but instead I’d let my own pettiness blind me.
I was a complete failure of a Captain.
Coach Gunner’s gaze swept over all of us, lingering on each face in turn, the weight of his disappointment almost tangible in the air. The guys shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, reduced to awkward, shamefaced silence.
Coach Hawkins stepped forward, her small stature doing nothing to diminish the authority that radiated from her. “I want to know who's responsible,” she demanded, each word sharp as a skate blade. “Right. Now.”
A tense silence fell over the room, thick enough to cut with a knife.
My throat felt tight, the confession burning behind my teeth, threatening to choke me if I didn't let it out.
It was my idea. I should be the one to take the fall.
The thought of anyone else getting punished for my stupidity, my recklessness, was unbearable.
But before I could speak, Lively stood up, the movement drawing all eyes to him, a collective intake of breath at the unexpected interruption.
“It was me,” he said, voice steady, unflinching.
My head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief, and a hot surge of anger rushed through me. What the hell did he think he was doing? My gaze locked onto his profile, the strong line of his jaw set with determination, no trace of his usual playful demeanor.
“I set up the glitter bomb,” he continued, maintaining eye contact with the coaches, his posture straight despite the wince he couldn't quite suppress. “I was aiming for my own team as a joke, but it went wrong. I'm sorry.”
The absolute fucking audacity of this guy! Was he trying to play the hero ? Make me feel even worse than I already did? I wasn't about to let him take the blame for something that I orchestrated.
“That's bullshit,” I said, standing up so quickly I nearly tripped over my own feet, my voice cutting through the stunned silence. “It was my idea. My plan. I'm responsible.”
Lively's eyes met mine then, and the blue seemed darker somehow, shadowed, like he didn’t like the fact that I wouldn’t let him play the martyr.
Before he could respond, Gina was on her feet beside me, her shoulder brushing mine in silent solidarity.
“No, it was my idea,” she said firmly, her voice strong and steady, even though we were currently facing down a severely pissed off Coach Hawkins. "Captain just went along with it.”
One by one, the rest of the Blizzard Belles stood up, a wave of solidarity that created a united front, each claiming responsibility in a chorus of "me too" and "I helped" that would have been touching under different circumstances.
Not to be outdone, the Rink Runners joined in, creating a ridiculous cascade of confessions that might have been comical if the situation weren't so serious.
“I mean, we knew about it,” Dylan said, standing tall beside Lively, his expression uncharacteristically solemn. “We were just…playing a game…”
“Yeah, we didn’t think it would become dangerous," Randy added, his massive frame towering over everyone else.
Even Dani, who'd returned from the medic's room still managed to make her way into the conference room and stood shakily at the end of the row. “I knew what was happening,” she insisted, her voice slightly wobbly but determined. “It was just an accident, Coach.”
“You shut it right now.” Coach Hawkins turned to glare at her, and she snapped her mouth shut at once.
Coach Gunner pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he was fighting off a migraine, the lines around his mouth deepening with frustration. Coach Hawkins' expression was, if possible, even more thunderous, her eyes narrowed to slits as she surveyed our ridiculous display of unified rebellion.
“These little shits,” she let out a humorless huff.
“Since we all love this arrangement so much,” Coach Gunner finally said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, each word weighted with barely constrained anger, “we're gonna make sure it runs smoothly. That means you'll be working together both on and off the ice.”
My eyebrows shot up, the implication of his words sinking in slowly, dread pooling in my stomach like ice water. Off the ice, too? The thought of even more forced proximity to Lively sent a jolt through me that was equal parts panic and something I refused to name.